Page 52 of Breaking the Bloodstone Curse
“Leave her alone!” He came into the living area, glaring at the older woman. “Put down the blaster and get away from her now!”
“No!” The older woman lifted her chin defiantly. “I’ll kill you both! I’ll say that you pushed your Mistress off the balcony and then I had to shoot you in self defense. It’s perfect!” She shoved the blaster into the younger woman’s face. “Now go on—jump!”
Brax felt his body filling with Rage—though he didn’t know the girl the Goddess had sent him to protect, the protective, possessive fury dropped a red curtain over his gaze. But he couldn’t let himself lose control—this was a delicate situation. The woman he was supposed to protect had a blaster in her face and she was inches away from being thrown over the balcony. How could he save her?
Goddess, he prayed. You sent me back here to protect her—help me now! Show me what to do!
Suddenly, a gust of wind from the outside rushed in. It whipped around the older woman’s tall blue tower of hair, tearing it out of place and plastering it across her face and eyes in a sticky, clinging mass.
“Gah!” she gasped and began clawing at her face with her free hand. The hand holding the blaster sagged and Brax saw his chance.
Rushing forward, he wrenched the blaster out of the older woman’s hand and threw it across the room. Then he grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her tight. Any other male might have just tossed her over the balcony and indeed, Brax would have loved to do that. But the Kindred half of him rebelled—he didn’t want to kill a woman, not even an evil, nasty, greedy one who deserved to be killed.
“Don’t kill her!” the younger Mistress exclaimed. She must have a soft heart since the other woman had certainly been intent on killing her, Brax thought.
“I won’t,” he growled. “But something’s got to be done with her—she tried to kill you, little Mistress!”
“We’ll call the authorities.” Her voice was shaking.
Meanwhile, the older woman was struggling in Brax’s grip.
“Let go—let me go!” she shrieked. Her hair was still plastered across her face in limp blue strands but her eyes could be seen and they looked crazy. “Call the authorities if you want—they’ll never believe you!”
“Excuse me—we got an urgent request to come at once?” a new voice said.
Brax turned his head and saw several tall, muscular women dressed in riot gear with official-looking uniforms on. Seeing what was going on, they pointed their blasters at him.
“Let go of her!” one shouted. And the other was speaking rapidly into her com-link, talking about a rogue male.
Brax’s stomach went tight. It seemed that someone had already called the Yonnite authorities and things were about to get ugly.
34
SERENAI
“No, no—you don’t understand! Brax isn’t at fault here—he saved me!”
Serenai stepped between the big half-Kindred—who was still holding Aunt Nibblegrim firmly by the shoulders—and the raised blasters of the peace-keepers. She’d heard of this special force of Amazonian women who kept peace for the Mistresses of Yonnie Six, but she’d never encountered them before.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, but not just from fear. Inside a little voice was singing,
Brax came back for me—he came back! That must mean he remembers me! He remembers our love!
“He saved me from my aunt—she was trying to kill me!” she said to the peace-keepers, hoping they would believe her. “If he hadn’t come back when he did, I’d be dead right now.”
“Lies!” Aunt Nibblegrim shrieked. “It was my niece who was trying to kill me. Why, she told her bodyslave to throw me over the balcony!”
The two peace-keepers looked between Serenai and her aunt, clearly uncertain as to what to do.
“I’m Mistress Nibblegrim—an established Mistress!” Aunt Nibblegrim went on, glaring at them from the mess of her hair. “You must believe me! Check my credentials—I’ve been a Yonnite all my life and this girl—my niece—only just came here a week or two ago. She has no credibility whatsoever!”
Serenai’s heart sank. It was true, she hardly knew anyone on Yonnie Six who would vouch for her. And Aunt Nibblegrim had been a part of this community for years. Of course they would believe her over Serenai. They?—
“Excuse me, officers.” Robbi, who had been standing at the far end of the living area simply observing, waddled forward.
“What the fuck next?” one of the peace-keepers muttered. “What do you want?” she demanded, glaring at Robbi.
“I am the robot butler of this household and I am the one who summoned you,” he said in his high, tinny voice. “I also have valuable evidence that may help you decide who is at fault here.”
